But the prisoner was not less unwilling to respond in Italian than in the other languages; his aim was to elude the examination. Therefore, he knew nothing either of the enemy’s numbers, or of those in command, or of the purpose of the army. “Very good,” said the prince, understanding the reason of that ignorance; “the man was caught in the act of assassination and robbery; he might have purchased his life by speaking; he doesn’t wish to speak. Take him out and shoot him.” The prisoner turned pale. The two soldiers who had brought him in took him, each by one arm, and led him toward the door, whilst the prince, turning to Marshal de Grammont, seemed to have already forgotten the order he had given. When he reached the threshold of the door the prisoner stopped. The soldiers, who knew only their orders, attempted to force him along. “One moment,” said the prisoner, in French. “I am ready to speak, my lord.” “Ah! ah!” said the prince, laughing, “I thought we should come to that. I have a sure method of limbering tongues. Young men, take advantage of it against the time when you may be in command.” “But on condition,” continued the prisoner, “that your highness will swear that my life shall be safe.” “Upon my honor,” said the prince. “Question, then, my lord.” “Where did the army cross the Lys?” “Between Saint-Venant and Aire.” “By whom is it commanded?” “By Count de Fuonsaldagna, General Beck and the archduke.” “Of how many does it consist?” “Eighteen thousand men and thirty-six cannon.” “And its aim is?” “Lens.” “You see; gentlemen!” said the prince, turning with a triumphant air toward Marshal de Grammont and the other officers. “Yes, my lord,” said the marshal, “you have divined all that was possible to human genius.” “Recall Le Plessis, Bellièvre, Villequier and D’Erlac,” said the prince, “recall all the troops that are on this side of the Lys. Let them hold themselves in readiness to march to-night. To-morrow, according to all probability, we shall attack the enemy.” “But, my lord,” said Marshal de Grammont, “consider that when we have collected all our forces we shall have hardly thirteen thousand men.” “Monsieur le maréchal,” said the prince, with that wonderful glance that was peculiar to him, “it is with small armies that great battles are won.” Then turning toward the prisoner, “Take away that man,” he said, “and keep him carefully in sight. His life is dependent on the information he has given us; if it is true, he shall be free; if false, let him be shot.” The prisoner was led away. “Count de Guiche,” said the prince, “it is a long time since you saw your father, remain here with him. Monsieur,” he continued, addressing Raoul, “if you are not too tired, follow me.” “To the end of the world, my lord!” cried Raoul, feeling an unknown enthusiasm for that young general, who seemed to him so worthy of his renown. The prince smiled; he despised flatterers, but he appreciated enthusiasts.